BoyGroove tells a familiar tale

The peacocks of pop have arrived.

It’s about time that a local theatre group revived BoyGroove, a light-hearted parody on the manufactured boy-band phenomena.

Written by Chris Craddock with music and lyrics by Aaron Macri, it first surfaced at the Fringe in 2003 and was followed two years later by an incredibly successful tour at major theatrical centres across Canada.

!mpulse Theatre, under the sure-fire direction of Trevor Schmidt, brings back this mockumentary style spoof created in a similar vein to Spinal Tap. It maps out the ascent and collapse of a boy band, one that combines ‘N Sync, Backstreet Boys and New Kids on the Block. And it’s a hoot.

Craddock has intuitively packed his script with the right combination of quick banter, raunchy jokes and lacerating satire as we follow the foursome from the band’s birth to oblivion. And Macri not only gets the silky sound just right, he also builds the right kind of snappy humour in the lyrics. Put together it’s a wild, campy and touching ride.

But underneath the cheesy froth, there are some pretty mature themes that examine celebrity, gay issues and easily disposable artists in a fickle industry.

Throughout the 75-minute production there is a stream of pop culture references and fleeting appearances by Britney Spears, Tom Cruise and Hypetastic, an unstable Eminem cloned rapper that advocates killing them in his newest hit.

We see how smug music executives pick and whip them into shape based on a formula rather than talent. There’s Kevin, the preppy strategist, Andrew, the sensitive tree-hugger, John, the bad boy break-dancer and Lance, the sexy man of prayer.

You also see how the band seduces and titillates their mostly female audience with crotch-grabbing signature songs Hips Buck and BoyGroove is Back — smoothly blended harmonies heightened by outsized gestures and sharp pelvic thrusts.

Once their first album breaks the Top 40, they’re pumped with more money, women and ecstasy than they can handle. Ego takes over and they fire their manager just before Lance is outed as gay and their careers are shot down in flames.

It’s all so familiar and outrageous. Yet this foursome makes it credible through killer performances. Tim Cooper’s Kevin, a greedy Justin Timberlake clone, always has his eyes on the big picture and nothing stands in the way of making millions. Byron Martin’s slick break-dance moves and suppressed rage have just the right edge. Mathew Bittroff’s Andrew is the sweet, charming prince of pop, and Eric Wigston’s Lance has just the right mix of naivetĂ© and sophistication.

Schmidt’s vision is devoid of a set or props. The atmosphere is created solely using dramatic spotlights and canned music. All eyes are on the actors. Any wobble is immediately noticeable, and there were a couple during the preview I saw.

But this boy band moves at a pretty fast clip and is so full of energy there’s almost no time to take a breather. One minute they’re whipping the floor into a mess of frenzied, bumping bodies. The next they’re slowing the pace in My Love Is Not a Crime to a bittersweet, poignant climax.

Not only is this band loaded with snap, crackle and pop, but they also connect beautifully with an audience. If you’re looking for an antidote to the traditional overworked Broadway offering, this is it.